The Great Destroyer
by Bad Mittens
Summary: Link, returning home from Termina, settles down in Hyrule for a final time, hoping to never combat evil again.  Yet, as Ganondorf escapes the Sacred Realm and threatens the world, he learns the evils he swore he'd defeated are far from gone.  My story "A Hero Comes Home" will revamp this.
1. Prologue

_Hello Fanfiction! I just wanted to put a little author's note here at the beginning to point out a few things about the story. First, there will be warnings at the beginning of every chapter about any explicit content. Also, I will __**not**__ change the rating to the story. It will be __**teen**__ and kept __**teen**__. Secondly, I suggest you get affiliated with most of the Legend of Zelda series __**before **__reading this. It does not concern one single game, but others as well, particularly the following:** Ocarina of Time, Majora's Mask, Wind Waker, and Twilight Princess**. However, the story takes place in OoT's Hyrule. Thirdly, this game contains a few theories, particularly the __**Split Timeline Theory**__ (Also known as the __**Adult and Child Timeline**__, it concerns that Link created two different times in OoT)__. Finally, this is my __**first story**__ so I ask that you try not to be too harsh in the comments, although I do enjoy feedback and criticism._

_**Thank you, and enjoy.**_

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><p><strong>Warning:<strong>

**In this chapter of the Great Destroyer, there is slightly explicit language.**

_Prologue_

The King of Evil stood alone on the bright plain. From all directions, he could see a continuous surface of stone spanning out far beyond the view of any eye, naked or divine. The sky, a ruffled blend of gray and white, stood like a dome above, holding no sun or moon. Although unseen, the limbo realm was lit by some source of tenacious light, never dying from night and never strengthening from day. It was here, in this world, to which the King of Evil was bound for all of sacred eternity. He was to never eat, never to drink again. He would cease to see anything but the dim color of the sky and the rough stone road to which he would walk on even as time itself ended.

The King of Evil knew that escaping this realm was impossible. From the light of the blade that had sealed his fate, the Seven Sages had cast a spell of unknown godly proportion onto his fading demonic body, trapping him in their world as long as the "blade of evil's bane" lay dormant in its resting place, and as long as the Sages kept him focused.

But someday, he hoped to be free. To wreak the havoc to which he had never fully cast and to kill all those who had opposed him. Especially that damned boy in green. Even now, after what seemed like years, the King of Evil remembered him, along with the princess who had also defiled and cursed his plans for all eternity. If that liberal day ever came, his first goal would be to swipe those pathetic "blessed" souls off the face of the world.

Just thinking about it, the King of Evil tightened his grip, digging his grotesque gray nails into his greenish skin. However, almost instantly after he began to feel blood trickle between his fingers, the king released his firm hold. Angering himself about this was futile and weak. He would never get out. The goddesses and their Sages were too cruel to possess such compassion.

"I'll get you too." He said in his deep, croaking voice, "Nayru, Din, Farore, and all your wretched Sages as well. You'll all burn under my command."

After pointing a sharp finger up to the damned skies, the King of Evil took a heavy seat down on the stone ground and put his meaty hands over his face. For a moment, all was silent, and then the king began to woefully moan.

A playful chuckle appeared out of nowhere.

"The Great King of Evil. How pitiful."

The sulking man looked up from his hands at the robed and hooded feminine figure in front of him.

"I was expecting to meet you in a more formal manner," the figure said with a distinct female voice, "But I guess you can't exactly prep yourself every morning for meetings, can you?"

The King of Evil said nothing. He just stared on in disbelief.

"Oh yes, that's right." She said, "There're no mornings here."

The feminine figure's dark obscurity towered over the king. It was about time he finally said something.

"Who are you?" he asked, getting up from the ground.

His acquaintance didn't seem to be tenderized by his masculine height.

"My name is not important." She told him, removing her hood, "But my ambitions are."

The woman beneath the cloak was stunningly beautiful. Long, jet-black hair flowed down from her head past the shoulders, curling vaguely at the end. Two cerulean irises dotted her eyes, shimmering in the rays of the unnatural light. Her skin, a mixture of light tan and pink, had no flaws at all, as if it had been designed by the goddesses themselves. And, just as the King of Evil did, she had a pair of Hylian pointed ears.

As the king examined her breathtaking visage, he couldn't help feel a strange source of familiarity.

Awkwardly, he heard himself deeply breathe in for a moment. The woman noticed, but paid no attention to it.

"What is _your_ name, King of Evil?" she asked him.

He paused for a moment, as if for effect.

"My name is Ganondorf." He told her firmly, "I am the Great King of Evil and the holder of the Triforce of Power."

The woman grinned.

"You say that quite freely." She mocked.

Ganondorf frowned and let out a small spark of his irritation.

"Because it is the only thing I have left." He said harshly. "What other damn reason do you think?"

"Now, now," she told him off, waving her finger, "No need to get angry."

This just made him all the more pissed.

"You don't tell me what to do," he snapped, "You bitch."

Instantly, the woman's eyebrows pointed downwards and she lunged at him with blinding speed. Ganondorf had no time to react, and he instead found himself with her hand around his neck. She had a terrifying grip, completely inhuman. The King of Evil couldn't free himself.

"I am here for your sake, Ganondorf." The woman said with a merged voice, "As well as mine. If you do not wish for my help, then I suppose I have no further use for you."

Her hand, which was a sickly purple and had all sorts of strange designs on it, suddenly sprouted a long squirming tentacle that quickly closed itself over Ganondorf's neck and more importantly his windpipe.

He had been told that it was impossible to die within the Sacred Realm. But as he felt the coming pain tighten around him, he doubted that.

If this "woman" was powerful enough to bend the physics of unnatural worlds, then perhaps she would prove a valuable ally after all. For now, that is.

"Fine," he said, "Have it your way."

The demonic woman smiled.

"You won't regret it." She promised him.

With that, the tentacle dismantled around Ganondorf's neck and retreated back into her hand. The king fell a small height to the ground, where he knelt, grasping his pressured neck.

"What do you want from me?" he coughed.

"Your help, Ganondorf." The woman said simply, "As well as your promise. In exchange, you'll be freed from this realm back into Hyrule."

Ganondorf shook his head.

"I seek vengeance." He said, "I want to kill that damned boy in green who ruptured my plans all those years ago. I want to kill that same boy."

The woman's smirk grew larger.

"I see," she said, dropping her gaze.

Ganondorf turned to her, anxiety in his eyes. The woman was pondering.

"As you wish, King of Evil." She finally said, "But you must be patient. For I have a plan to which you would never turn down."

Ganondorf's anxiety only increased.

"And what is that plan?" he asked.

She lifted a finger to silence him. For a second, all was quiet.

Suddenly, the ground exploded with a violent tremor. Ganondorf almost fell back as he watched a pillar of black water spray out from the stone ground, staining the bare gray with an abnormal and hideous black. From the water there formed a dark whirlpool that blasphemously spun clockwise and counterclockwise through the holy air of the prison realm.

After staring at the strange structure for a while, the woman paced forward and walked directly into the whirlpool. Ganondorf, perplexed, called out to her.

"Wait!" he said, "What is your plan?"

Standing in a puddle of the thin dark liquid, the woman turned to him.

"I'll tell you on the way." She replied.

Ganondorf was still confused.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

The woman paused, as if for effect.

"To Hyrule," she said.

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><p>THE GREAT DESTROYER<p> 


	2. Dethroned

Hey, a quick author's note here.

If you do happen to read this story and like it, I'd really appreciate a review. When people add my stories to their favorites, etc., that's great and upholding to my work. However, reviews show that people like the story and it will convince others to read.

So please, read and review. Remember, bring criticism if you wish.

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><p><strong>Warning:<strong>

**In this chapter of the Great Destroyer, there is drug and language use.**

_Dethroned_

Link awoke to a dark room. At once, he could tell this was a dream. He had strengthened senses; his smell and hearing had sharply risen, giving him a greater mental intake of his surroundings. However, his line of sight had decreased significantly, not allowing him to see through the pitch black. As he blinked a few times, he came to realize that his eyes felt incredibly numb, as if they weren't even there. He also felt considerably taller.

But by far the greatest change was his attire. No longer were his Kokiri garments over his body, but instead a thick suit of armor as well as a seemingly white tunic, dark fabric, and two heavy gauntlets. His hat, which had been green only a little while ago, was now also a snow white color. As he put two fingers on his face and rubbed them all around his cheek, he could feel a strange hardened substance. With a little effort, he probably could've pulled it off, but it didn't seem logical.

Suddenly, a bright light seized the dark room, blinding him with a bizarre assortment of fruity lights and colors. He feebly put his hand up to guard his impaired eyes, but saw that it offered no sense of tranquility. The lights were coming from everywhere: left, right, up and down. Strangely, these lights offered no pleasure, as most lights do. They felt almost like darkness, almost _evil_.

The thought of the sinister word seemed to echo across his broadened mind and careen off the walls invisible to his broken eyes. Never before had he thought of something as comforting as light to be "evil". It was always darkness. Darkness was always the antagonist, and light was always the unconditional protagonist.

Yet, Link knew that sometimes the light of day could be the true villain. When time is against you, and light is too, there never seems to be heroes or the hope they bring.

_Such an ironic thought, Link._

Link's eyes widened. Someone had just spoken to him.

_Come now, Link. You know who I am._

The voice was incredibly terrifying. It sounded like a distorted merging of male and female voices, and it always seemed to laugh and mock as it spoke.

However, what was strange above all is that the voice was "claiming" he knew it.

_I don't have all day, Link. Come and play._

Play?

Suddenly, Link's eyes violently adjusted to the lights, silencing his thoughts. However, they weren't prepared for the horrid sight laid in front of him.

An enormous perverted room bordered by large glass windows stood around Link. The windows, which were too thick to see through, were filled with various odd shades of green, blue, red, and purple, creating the lights to which he had been viciously exposed to earlier. There were also ancient designs etched lightly into the surface of the windows, each the same as the other.

But what frightened him the most was on the far side of the room, sealed on a stone indentation behind a glass-free wall. It seemed to be dead, as its colors were completely dimmed and its eyes were as black as coal.

_I won't be dead for long, so don't worry._

Suddenly, a bright white ray erupted from Link's chest. He was completely caught off-guard by the strange occurrence, and almost fell backwards trying to flee from the light. But, as he watched four masks appear from the light, he settled down, and instead focused on the far wall.

The four masks dissipated the light and separated from their crowded position to unique mirrors closest to the stone wall. Instantly, the _evil thing_ behind the wall ignited with a bright assortment of colors.

_Ready or not, here I come._

Link watched, aghast, as his nightmare came loose from the wall and sprouted tentacles from its back. Upon sighting Link, it floated towards him, its gruesome red roots dancing around its body in a haunting, submerged motion. With it, the voice came.

_Where's your sword, Link? You can't play without your sword._

Shaking, Link looked to the ground, his eyesight still blurry. There, on the cold, stone floor was a double-helix sword colored green on one helix and silver on the other. He looked up. The _thing _was right over him now, measuring out to almost half of his entire body size.

_I have little patience Link. _

He was still unsure.

_I might want to start the game without you._

Fearful of those words, Link returned his gaze to the ground and grabbed the hilt of the beautiful blade. He quickly lifted it above his head, causing his opponent to move away.

When he had two full hands on his sword, he nodded.

_Well…_

…_shall we go?_

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><p>Link awoke again. This time, he was not in a dark room. Instead, he seemed to be in some sort of living space. A fireplace filled to the brim with wood stood out above all other scenery in the room, holding a graceful flame in its center. Two ornate couches stood close to this fire, and one seemed to be holding a man. A man with answers.<p>

As Link got up, he noticed he had been sleeping in a bundle of animal hides and fur laid out disgustingly all over the floor. This was obviously makeshift bedding for him.

His green tunic and hat were gone. It seems as if someone had dressed him in a dark warm pullover and some comfortable wool slacks. Over his head and tightly around his Hylian ears was a white knitted stocking cap, probably fit there to keep his ears warm.

_But from what?_ He thought to himself.

As he lifted himself out of the heavy blankets, he found out what that was. Cold air immediately pierced his thick clothing, causing him to rush back beneath the warmth of the furry blankets and hides.

He shivered quietly, but someone had heard him.

"You're awake." The man on the couch said, "I was beginning to wonder if you froze to death out there."

The man's voice was very deep and militant. Link wondered if he was a soldier.

However, the question was daunting him.

"Out where?" he asked, confused.

The man snickered, almost menacingly. As Link turned to him, he watched him take in a puff of smoke from a pipe and let it dance out of his mouth and nostrils. His hair and sharp nose were the only traits visible through the brightness of the fire.

"It seems we have other questions that must be answered before we get to that," the man said, inhaling again from his pipe.

As he let the smoke exhale over his lips, he continued, "What's your name, young boy?"

Link hesitated, as if he couldn't remember his own name.

"Link," he said simply.

The thick scent of tobacco was beginning to drift over towards him.

"Do you have a last name?" the man inquired.

"No."

He nodded, resting the pipe down on the coffee table in front of him.

"How about you?" Link countered, "What's your name?"

The man scratched his cheek.

"Raymond Ashei." He finally said, "I'm forty years of age, if you wish to know."

Link managed to let out a weak smile.

"Speaking of which," Raymond continued, "How old are you, boy?"

"Fourteen years old," Link answered without hesitation.

"Ah. Still in your prime years, I see?"

"If you call them that, sir. But I think I've seen enough in these years to think the latter."

"The latter, boy? What events would provoke such a statement?"

Abruptly, Link began staring at a layer of cow hide stretched across his feeble excuse for a bed. He failed to reply. Reason behind it, however, was hidden beyond Link's deepened mind and his facial expressions.

Raymond could tell this simple question bothered him.

"Nevermind," he said, "Don't worry about it."

Taking up his pipe again, Raymond put both of his shadowed feet up on the coffee table, not caring that a couple clumps of dirty snow had splashed out all over the polished wood. He smoked it once, and then began talking again.

"You're on the high mountain of Snowpeak, in the land of Hyrule." Raymond finally said, "The building you are in now is called Fort Apex. It is a checkpoint for Hylian soldiers such as myself."

This brought only joy to Link's expression, as was shown by the cheery smile on his face as he looked up.

"How far am I from Castle Town, then?" he asked anxiously.

"A day's journey," Raymond retorted, "Down the mountain."

Although the distance sounded frightening, Link seemed overjoyed. However, as he thought about the instance, there was still one question that was ringing in his head.

"What happened to me?" he asked.

Raymond grunted, smoking his pipe once more.

"When?" he asked sardonically, "Before or during the time you were knocked out?"

Link tried to ignore his cruel joke.

"During." He told him, "I remember everything before."

_Yes, Link, __**everything**__._

Raymond rubbed his chin, seeming to be deep in thought. When he answered, his tone seemed coarse and a little unsure.

"You were riding on a carriage, pulled by a single horse." Raymond began, "Some scouting soldiers, including myself, watched you on your way as you traveled along a steep cliff."

Link's memory was suddenly jostled lose from the jaws of the unknown.

"Then the unthinkable happened," he went on, "You were ambushed by a raiding party of Bokoblins."

Link cocked his head.

"Bokoblins, sir?" he questioned, unsure of what the name implied.

"They are strange, humanoid monsters about your size that used to inhabit Hyrule before the Hylians settled here." Raymond explained, "They are warlike in nature, and are usually under the rule by a single Moblin to which they elect their leader. Recently, perhaps in the last year, they've made a comeback."

"That would explain why I've never heard of them." Link said, "The last time I've seen Hyrule was two years ago, when I left to…"

He trailed off. Raymond knew he was getting to another uncomfortable topic.

"Anyways," he interrupted, hoping to catch Link's attention, "You were attacked, and your equipment riding in the carriage was damaged significantly. As well as you, of course."

"What of the horse?" Link asked, suddenly remembering, "That horse is a dear friend of mine. Her name is Epona."

Raymond scratched his head.

The room suddenly became darker. The sounds, including the mute crackling of the fire, ceased their noise and allowed the room to fade to complete silence. Link could no longer smell the tobacco from Raymond's pipe, as well as the pale reek of the unwashed hides and furs.

Everything was unfocused for Link as he waited for that dreadful answer.

"I'm sorry, but the horse was killed." Raymond apologized.

Link's gaze once again dropped to the ground, keeping the room with a deadly silence.

For a while no one spoke. Link didn't even cry. He seemed to be lamenting in a realm beyond the physical, but in truth he just sat there, dismay and skepticism in his eyes. For a split second, he saw the goddesses as good as dead.

When he did speak, there was stuttering slurring his tongue.

"You rescued me, then?" he asked.

"Of course." Raymond replied, hoping the boy wouldn't take it any further, "After we saw the Bokoblins, we got right off our asses and rushed over to your carriage. Sadly, by the time we got there, you were already ruined."

Link nodded vigorously.

"Understood," he said, despair staining his tone, "What of my equipment?"

"Well," Raymond said, "To say the least, most of it was destroyed. Including your clothing."

His clothing was the least of his worries.

"What items have you recovered?" he asked impatiently.

"Seemingly the most important ones," Raymond told him, reaching behind the couch.

When his hands returned from their hidden position, they were holding six items. Two of them were obviously swords; one was sheathed and the other was hidden behind a bundle of cloth. Another item was a quiver, which held no bow and only arrows. The other three things were wrapped in cloth and unseen, except for one which Raymond had pulled out and set on his lap. It was a book.

"The Bombers' Notebook," He read aloud, "A journal for happiness."

Raymond suddenly lifted himself off his couch and began to pace towards Link. When he had finally stepped out into the light of the nearby candle, Link was finally able to see his face.

Raymond Ashei looked very little like the old bearded man that Link thought he would be. Truthfully, he had no beard at all and his hair was jet-black as opposed to white. He looked to be in his early thirties instead of his forties since he still had that fresh look of a college graduate. In addition, his sharp eyes and ruffled mouth gave Link the impression that he really was a serving soldier, and not a retired veteran. The steel-plated armor and the Hylian shield over his back also gave that away.

"Here's your book." Raymond said, lightly tossing the notebook to Link.

Link, still weak from bed, flinched back a little as the leather-bound book came towards him, but he still managed to catch it.

Raymond now held the long, sheathed sword.

"I've never seen this for awhile." He said, drawing the sword.

Link tilted his head and watched as he admired the magnificent blade. Its hilt was quite standard, with a leather-wrapped grip and two thin metal branches extending out of the end of the blade. The blade itself was beautiful; it was long and had diamond-patterned gold all over both faces.

But as Raymond felt awe for the blade, Link felt only fear.

"This was forged from gold dust, was it not?" Raymond asked, sheathing the sword.

Link was silent for a moment. He knew the answer, but he wasn't sure he wanted to say it. The sword brought back too many memories.

_As well as the mask._

Before replying, Link turned to Raymond and stared at one of the wrapped bundles.

"Yes." Link said, "It was."

"Where did you find some?" Raymond asked, unaware of Link's discomfort, "Gold dust is quite rare."

Link hesitated again.

"I won it." He told him, "In a race."

"Hmph." Raymond grunted, "What kind of race?"

Breathing in heavily, Link put a hand on the front face of the stocking cap. He didn't want to go any deeper.

"Can we please move along, sir?" he replied, trying to sound as courteous as possible, "I prefer not to talk about the past."

Raymond was silent for a while, disheartened by Link's denial. But he stood firm and held out the gilded sword to the young boy, who took it freely. He then moved onto the next item: another sword.

"Here, take this as well." Raymond told him, handing out the covered blade, "You might want to use two hands."

Link heeded his word and took the sword with both hands. After he had inspected it and decided it had not been broken, he drew it from beneath the cloth, revealing a magnificent pink-green blade.

"To be honest," Raymond said, "I've never quite seen anything like that. I don't know any metal that is naturally pink or green."

Link looked at him, hoping he wouldn't ask any questions.

"Your equipment is odd, Mr. Link." He went on, "Most of your things I wouldn't think a boy your age would carry. There is, however, one item I wish to talk to you about."

He gave him two of the remaining items: the quiver and one of the wrapped bundles. In the quiver he found his arsenal of fire, ice, and light arrows, and in the bundle he found a blue-painted ocarina.

"Thank the goddesses." He prayed silently after seeing the ocarina.

Raymond was still holding one item. It was the other bundled wrap of cloth, but it was wrapped a lot less loosely than the ocarina, telling Link that it must've been fragile.

_Yes, be careful with it._

Link's eyes widened. Raymond saw this.

"Is something wrong, boy?" he asked, concerned.

Link didn't answer him.

"What's in that?" he questioned, tightly holding on to the hilt of the gilded sword.

Raymond paused, as if for effect.

"It's a mask," he said, "Of you."


	3. The Descent

If you haven't connected the dots yet, this story takes place two years after Link left Hyrule in search of his "beloved and invaluable friend" (two years after Ocarina of Time). It ultimately occurs after Majora's Mask as well.

You can also see that Link is touchy about the topic of Termina and his adventures there.

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><p><strong>Warning:<strong>

**In this chapter of the Great Destroyer, there is language and grisly violence.**

_The Descent_

"Must you leave so early?" Raymond asked.

Link pulled tight on the iron gauntlets the fair man had given him earlier. Following, he fastened his quiver (which now held a simple longbow) over his shoulders along with his pink-green blade and a satchel that carried the lightweight ocarina, the mask, a few tinderboxes, a lantern, a large glass of oil, a loaf of bread, and some salted jerky. Around his waist was a hunting knife and the gilded sword.

"Yes," Link said, "The Princess told me she'd have a well paid job offer when I returned, so I should get to Castle Town as quick as possible."

"The Princess?" Raymond gasped, "Zelda? You spoke with her?"

"Yep." Link chuckled softly, "Shocking, isn't it?"

He pulled a pair of fur boots on over his wool socks.

"Indeed." Raymond said, his tone saddening, "Not even that many soldiers get to meet here these days. Ever since the death of the King and the election of the High Priest, she's been… unsociable."

Link stopped.

"The King died?" he exclaimed, "When?"

"Just over a month ago," Raymond replied, "Murdered, actually. The Princess was so distraught over his death. She didn't even organize a funeral for him."

Link shook his head in disbelief.

"Who would murder the King?" he thought aloud.

"Some think it was the Gerudos." Raymond told him, "They've been angry ever since the King publically executed _their_ _king_."

"_Their king_?" Link inquired.

"Yeah." He said, "A real sly bastard. Convicted for treason against the King's Guard and chasing the Princess right out of Hyrule. I think his name was Ganondorf."

Link's blood froze to ice. He never thought he'd hear that name again.

"What of the High Priest?" Link asked, changing the subject.

"Agahnim? That wizard's trouble in the making."

Link cocked his head.

"Why?" he questioned.

"He's just so sinister." Raymond told him, "His appearance, his voice. It's all so evil. I don't trust him."

"Maybe I'll have a talk with the Princess about him…"

Raymond shook his head in doubt.

"The High Priest is her top advisor." He said, "She'd disregard any accusations or crimes laid against him."

"Then I won't worry about it." Link assured him, smiling.

Raymond's mouth grew to a smirk. He mumbled playfully, and patted Link lightly on the shoulder. In his other hand, he was holding his pipe. Link could still smell a strong sense of tobacco emanating from its innards.

Raymond puffed it, blowing the smoke right past Link's nose.

"You sure you don't want a horse?" He grunted, holding the pipe in his mouth, "Those things can defend you from those Wolfos."

"Don't worry." Link told him, "I know how to defend _myself_."

Stepping away from Raymond, he led his way to the ornate wooden door on the far side of the room. As he reached the dimly lit doorway, he could feel a cold breeze flow across his body, chilling his outer core. The fresh, wet smell of the mountains filled his nostrils, and he knew that they lay just beyond this door.

Suddenly, right as he was about to push his way through the door, Raymond called out.

"Wait, I forgot something!" he said, holding up a hand.

Link sighed impatiently, turning around. The man had dashed to a heavy-weight chest near the fireplace, and began to scavenge through what seemed to be vast assortments of military and personal equipment.

Just as Link was about to embark without Raymond's approval, the soldier jumped up from his hovered position over the chest and rushed over to the cold door. In his hands he held a large furry object. Its full appearance was obstructed by the darkness.

"Take this headdress." He said, "It'll keep you warm.

Link took it without delay.

Strangely, it was a lot lighter than he thought. As he lifted it close to a candle on the wall, he got a complete image. It was, in a sense, a mask.

The entire "headdress" looked to cover from the top of his cranium all the way down to the mid-chest, shielding the shoulders as well. It was completely snow-white, except for a small section of the face: the "mask". The mask was eerie in appearance, with two holes for eyes and leather binding them to the headdress.

It did, however, look to be rather cozy.

"What is this?" he asked, curious.

"A Yeti's Mask." Raymond answered almost instantaneously, "It is a tradition in my family. Said to mistake Yetis for other Yetis. But most importantly, it'll keep you warm."

Link nodded.

"You said 'a'." Link commented, "Are there others?"

"Of course." Raymond replied, "Each one of my family members has one. We all grew up on Snowpeak."

"So this is yours? Will you not miss it?"

Raymond shook his head.

"Take it," he said, "It's much more of a use to you than to me."

Link smiled awkwardly.

"If you say so." He said.

Heading back towards the door, Link threw the Yeti's Mask over his head, instantly feeling the leather warm his face and chest. As he shook off the last trace of cold from his body, he pushed open the door and stepped out into the frigid mountain air.

As expected, Link couldn't see anything, except for the pathetic shine of the sun barely breaking through the snowstorm. Upon opening the door, a wave of snow had swept into the room, soaking the carpets and extinguishing a few of the candles. The loud sound of wind constantly stormed past the outside of the mask, filling his ears with an annoying whistle. Stepping out into the first mound of snow, the elevation drastically changed. His boots pushed all the way down through the white layers until he hit the dead grass beneath. Fortunately, his shoes were thick enough and were pulled tight enough that no snow was able to soak the outside or attack his wool socks.

He pushed through to the next wall, finding that the snow was powdery and cut like cheese with the head of his boots. Instantly after seeing this, he began dashing blindly through the snowy mist, but not before turning back to Fort Apex one more time.

Raymond Ashei was standing in the exit.

"Are you sure you don't want a horse?" he hollered over the loud force of the wind.

"I'll be fine!" Link called back.

Without saying anything else, the soldier raised his arm and began to wave.

Link waved back generously, feeling the oddest bit of sadness in his heart. Then he turned back into the unknown bowels of the blizzard and vanished through a cloud of snow.

* * *

><p>He should've taken the <em>damn<em> horse.

The cursed decision continually haunted Link as the vague rays of the sun began to finally submit to the blizzard. Night was growing, and he was tiring.

As much as he descended and as fast as he ran, Link could never outrun the inevitable continuum of snowfall that covered the mountainside. It had been snowing ever since he left the fort, and had failed to give him a single break. Surely the gods of this mountain would take pity on him, would they not?

Just then, a blistering gust of wind cut across his body, nearly freezing his covered but vulnerable legs in place. He shook his head, suddenly knowing the answer to that dreadful thought.

He was thinking about finding a cave to take shelter in, but his scattered mind continually persuaded him to keep moving.

"I'm almost there." He said to himself, "Just a little longer."

Breathing in heavily, Link forced himself onwards through the white void of nothingness. He eventually came to a point where the earth curved up slightly and gave way to a much unexpected drop-off.

Although the misty snowfall had cleared at the edge of the cliff, it didn't give Link much of an influential sight. A large open canyon stood just beyond the vertical face of the cliff, bordering another section of the mountains. Near the bottom of the ravine, the cliffs of both mountains curved down to meet a long, snaking river. There were evergreen trees sprinkled around there as well, but they seemed more like tiny little ants than anything else.

He decided it probably wouldn't be the best idea to try and climb down.

"Definitely don't want to break my legs." He said to himself.

Turning to the side of his mountain, he saw the long purple streak of nightfall beginning to creep over the setting sun's red-orange wake. The sun itself was just a small glimmer in the way distance, covered almost completely by the clouds and the sky. Goddesses help him, he would soon face night.

As he took in the rest of the view, he decided.

"Screw it," he said outright, "I'm finding shelter."

Suddenly, just as he was about to exit the ledge, a loud howl arose from a higher cliff. Eyes widening, he quickly drew his gilded sword and returned to the cloud of snowfall. Another howl was heard over the echo of the canyon, and with that Link broke into a blazing sprint down the mountain.

Only moments into his descent, simultaneous howls were heard. Along with it came the hazy but distinct pattering of snow. He was being hunted.

Quickening his pace, Link sought out the wall of the mountain to find some nook or small cave he could hide in. Undoubtedly, these were Wolfos that were chasing him. Although he had fought many in the past, a pack of them could very well be a sinister challenge. He had no shield as well, so the fight would prove to be even tougher.

All in all, it was best to avoid them.

As he reached the pleasing rocks piled along the side of the mountain, the Wolfos' howls sounded again, this time much closer. The pattering noise had also grown a lot louder, filling Link's eyes with the peculiar mirage of volatile wolves.

He breathed heavily under the Yeti's Mask as he searched for his promised cave, knowing the Wolfos could be on him at any moment. The wind had just begun to blow even harder, scattering more snow over his line of view and disrupting his struggling pursuit of the tranquil safe house.

Looking over his shoulder quickly, he checked to see if any of his fearsome foes had decided to creep up on him yet.

Thankfully, all that could be seen was the white curtain of continuing snow that refused to leave the mountain, as well as a single, out-of-place rock that stood right in the middle of his searching area.

After he knew the coast was clear, he sheathed his sword and put both hands on the rough rock wall. Keeping one eye out for the Wolfos, he rummaged his hands along the wall, searching for even the slightest crack he could hide in.

Darkness was becoming just as much of an issue as the snow. The sun had, by now, completely faded from its state as a glimmer and was now shining over the other lands that covered this world the goddesses had made. Labrynna and Holodrum were getting their light now.

"Bastards." He chuckled to himself.

Suddenly, his eyes were averted to a curved portion on the wall. There, shaped into the mountain, was a large entrance to a cave. He stared on; mesmerized that he had truly found a hiding spot.

His victory was short-lived.

A terrible growl came from behind.

He felt a warm chill crawl up his spine.

Reluctantly but stiffly, he turned around. To his predicted misfortune, he saw the vicious faces of three white Wolfos, staring at him with hungry eyes. Their lycan bodies and sharp eyes entranced him with their presence and made the pack look a lot more intimidating.

Obviously, they were staring at him and were waiting for the right time to attack. His plans of fleeing were now significantly limited. There was no way he could hide himself in that cave without the Wolfos tearing him up before he could do it.

No, he would have to fight.

"After all I've been through," he whispered to himself, "I'm not going to die from a pack of pathetic Wolfos."

He drew his gilded sword, listening to the delectable sound of the razor blade being pulled from the sheath. The Wolfos snarled and stood up on their hind legs, ready for battle. Link threw down the majority of his items (including the Yeti's mask) to keep the battle lightweight, but he kept the hunting knife on his side.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then one of the Wolfos attacked.

Without warning, the screeching beast hurled itself with amazing velocity at Link, hoping to get a one-hit pin on his body. He easily dodged the Wolfos' attack and took a swipe at its thick pelt. His hit just grazed the skin, and he didn't have time for another one.

Another Wolfos jumped on him, this time from a position on the large centered rock. Remembering his mistake from that last move, he dodged the lunge but put himself in a position that was dangerously close to the beast.

So close was the attack that he could smell the foul odor of the Wolfos' unwashed pelt and feel the diced air from its frighteningly sharp claws. Immediately upon its arrival to the ground, Link raised the sword and took an attempted thrust into his fearsome opponent's neck.

The blade, to his surprise, missed the neck and went straight into the mouth, splattering red all over the Wolfos' lips and cheeks. The beast roared in pain, alerting his two allies, and took a blank swipe at Link.

With his sword still in its mouth, Link jumped back away from the attack and swiftly drew his hunting knife. This time he went for the head, and successfully planted the dagger directly in the monster's cranium. A brief crack was heard, and suddenly the Wolfos' head sprouted an unexpected geyser of blood that quickly died down. Link's hand was covered in Wolfos blood, a predicament in which he had never been in before.

Yet, there were much more severe matters at play.

The third Wolfos, who was unaware of the killing of his friend, took up a position on the same rock and lunged forward to catch Link. Both of his weapons were still imbedded into the severed corpse of the Wolfos and he didn't have time to pull them out.

Instead, he tried something different.

Using all of his strength, he pulled the dead body to the ground and over his own using the hilts of both weapons. The thick skin of the Wolfos would surely protect him from ten razor sharp claws.

The plan worked. Moments later, he felt the heavy weight of the monster land on the cadaver. Due to the snowstorm, the Wolfos assumed the body it had landed on was Link, and began viciously tearing at the body.

Surprisingly, the other Wolfos came over as well and joined the "feast", doing its job to mutilate Link's clever decoy.

While Link struggled to watch the gruesome scene above, he quickly snuck out from under the warm dead weight and back into the cold snow. The two Wolfos didn't see this, and continued to rip strips of red meat from their former collaborator.

Link, with blood splattered in a streak across his face, sheathed the stained knife and took in both hands the gilded sword. Reluctantly, he began to silently approach one of the Wolfos who was completely oblivious to his presence. He gagged at the sight of the Wolfos literally eating their own kind, but kept managed to keep his chin up.

Not bearing to watch it anymore, he raised the blade high above his head and came down on the Wolfos' neck, as an executioner would his axe. He had hoped to dig deep enough to puncture the jugular vein, but it only managed to make a large gash.

Instantaneously, the Wolfos cried out in pain. Unfortunately for it, its neck was still bent over the demolished body of its comrade, allowing Link for another slice before the other could act.

This time, when Link came down, the sword broke through the bone and came out the other side, decapitating the Wolfos. Not another cry was heard, only the revolting sound of squishy meat.

The head of the white beast rolled down into the entrails of the mutilated Wolfos, allowing the final one to see the damage Link had done.

It looked up at him, cannibalistic blood all over its jaws and pieces of flesh hanging on the insides of its teeth. The eyes, which had been frightening enough without antagonism, now seemed to hold a grudge; a rage.

Link kept both hands on his sword and waited for an attack.

The Wolfos began circling him, walking on its dirty white knuckles throughout the bloodied snow, creating discrete, circular tracks that filled up seconds after their appearance. Its tail swished back and forth in anticipation.

Finally, it stopped.

Link thought it was going to attack.

Oddly, it didn't, but instead let out a mourning howl.

The howl went on for a while, echoing through the dark blizzard and careening off the rock walls of the mountain. It came through the nearby cave and returned. It rung violently on the outside of Link's stocking cap, almost managing to make his ears bleed.

But the Wolfos gave him no harm. Instead, it turned away and ran off into the darkness of the night, carrying with it the continuous pattering of snow.

Link stood there, dumbfounded.

The wind whistled over his body, returning a sense of peace to the mountain. After he was sure the beast was gone, he went back to the entrance of the cave, past the piled Wolfos bodies, and retrieved his gear.

Knowing this night had been enough for him, he crossed the threshold of the dark, intimidating cave and retreated to a far back corner.

Not worrying about the noticeable stains on his weapons, he threw down his equipment and set up the Yeti's Mask as a pillow. Almost instantly after closing his eyes, he drifted off into the deep sleep, not caring about the cold or the fact that the Wolfos could return.

He was tired.

It had been one long day.


	4. The Inner Circle

**Warning:**

**In this chapter of the Great Destroyer, there is language.**

_The Inner Circle_

Ganondorf stood in a room of almost complete darkness. The only light that broke the shadows came from an unidentified point above, shining directly on a sandstone table in the central region of the room. His newly met acquaintance, with a name she refused to reveal, stood distantly next to him, shifting her feet along the dusty ground and playing with her sharp, purple thumbs. Impatience clearly filled her mind.

"Are you certain these 'allies' of yours are worthy?" she asked, with distinct disgust in her speaking.

"Much certain." Ganondorf assured her, "They are witches of the Gerudo, after all."

Her expression changed to doubt.

"I am not affiliated with these Gerudo." She said, "My existence in Hyrule is still exceptionally young."

Ganondorf sighed briefly, not wanting to explain to her the entire cultural history of the Gerudos. Such a race has gone down too many winding, perplexing paths through treachery, allegiance, and neutrality to other kingdoms in Hyrule's domain, including itself. He wasn't a historian. He was a thief. A former thief. A demon thief.

"They are people of the Gerudo Desert, a wasteland that lies far to the west of Hyrule Field." He said, attempting to keep a staid tone, "Warlike in nature, they have only women that command their army and rule their people. Male Gerudos are rare and outside men are considered inferior. However, _I_ became their _king_."

"You?" she mocked, "A king? Over what?"

He was about to cut in but noticed she hadn't finished.

"Evil?" she proposed, "The desert? Two things that are distasted by the divine and by the laws of the universe. Such things that are only looked upon as pathetic and weak. If you were a god, then perhaps I'd reconsider. But you aren't. Especially not of evil."

Without another word, she returned her gaze to the table, lessening the built pressure that had accumulated on her cheeks and eyes.

Ganondorf wanted to kill her. An action like that would most certainly quench his distorted anger. However, her possibility as an important ally was still pending. And, as much as he hated to admit it, she was quite intimidating.

"Ah, here they are." She said, perking her head up.

Ganondorf, ditzy at first, looked over into far the darkness across from the table to see two hovering shapes appear from the black fog. Both were female and ancient and wore long, ornate, black robes, but appeared as midgets. Their hair was completely extraordinary, with one carrying a hunk of ice crystal and the other carrying a flowing entity of fire. Clearly, they seemed to be witches.

They were both riding on small broomsticks and approached the table with great fortitude, much to the woman's distaste.

When they were finally next to the table, the fiery one spoke:

"Greetings, Ganondorf." She said with a voice as old as the sun itself, "I must say I doubted your death following the execution."

He didn't understand what she was saying.

_Execution?_

Turning to his female comrade, he saw that she was holding one of her nauseating hands in front of his face, telling him to remain silent.

"Twinrova," she said, speaking to them both, "Or Koume and Kotake if you prefer. I have called this meeting. You will speak to me and only to me until we have become fully familiar with each other."

Kotake, the ice one, seemed to sneer.

"As you wish." Koume said, disbanding her other ego, "Then what is your name, mysterious one?"

The two witches stared at her longingly.

"I prefer not to reveal my name." she said politely, "But, I suppose I need a surrogate name to cover my identity."

She pondered for a moment, then smiled and said:

"How about Zelda?" she said, "That's a nice name."

The room suddenly became vastly silent. All noises ceased. The scuttling dust stopped whispering. Breathing stopped. Even the crackle of Koume's fiery hair was extinguished from sound. All was mute.

"Why choose the name of a recluse, spoiled little bitch?" Kotake inquired, breaking the silence.

"Excuse me?" the woman said, with a tone of warped humor.

"I'm sorry, sister," Kotake apologized, turning to Koume, "But I refuse to work with one who uses sarcasm and oppressive phrases to insult our intelligence."

The newly appointed Zelda cut in.

"I can assure you that I didn't mean to offend anyone by any means." She said, "But my tone may have been strict."

"And why would that be?" Kotake asked suspiciously, preventing Koume from speaking.

She smiled seductively.

"Twinrova," she said, "I've been absent from my true existence for a few millennia now. A… plan I've been forming has been in development for quite a long time. It's ready to take effect, and I don't want anyone screwing it up."

The two sorceress sisters looked at each other in confusion.

Finally, it was Ganondorf who spoke.

"Koume," he said, "Kotake."

The Twinrova's attention was attracted to his voice.

"This kind… woman is the primary cause of my return."

Koume and Kotake looked perplexed once again.

"She has promised me something," he told them, pacing around the table, "Something that will change the entire history of Hyrule…"

He looked at Zelda oddly, who stared back with a grotesque hand supporting her chin.

"…and the universe."

Turning back to the Twinrova, his eyes became two red eagles, ready to dive forward and attack a cowering victim. The goddesses themselves feared those eyes, for a certain ambition burned behind them: a celestial threat to the heavens.

As he tightened his fingers on the rough sandstone, his voice brought out a terrible truth that would forever haunt the sacred realms:

"She has promised me the power to kill gods."

For a moment, there was no sound. A cursed muteness rode through the room, circling around Twinrova, then exiting at Kotake's voice.

"Ha." She mocked, "What a joke."

Koume turned to her sister, attempting to reason, but the firm frigidness of the witch's heart was far too icy to let go of this accusation.

" The goddesses created the universe," Kotake continued, floating over to Ganondorf's side, "Why would they let a flaw loose that could endanger them?"

Ganondorf was caught. He rubbed the surface of his green cheek, brushing slightly over the dark red hair cutting along each side of his skull.

"The goddesses didn't create the universe." Zelda said, saving him, "They created Hyrule."

Kotake exhaled ominously, bringing an evil smirk to Zelda's face.

"Just as the Giants created Termina, and just as another, greater deity created them all."

The ice witch crossed her ugly brows.

"What do you know of Termina and the universe?" she ridiculed.

"Enough to make your head spin." Zelda replied, "I've known much since the second I was born."

As if the conversation bored her, she opened her grotesque violet hand and formed a ball of dark energy. Focusing her gaze away from the Twinrova and Ganondorf, she took a finger and began to spin it around the sphere in a clockwise motion. The ball worked at her command, rotating at the exact speed of her sharp nail.

"Well, I guess I really wasn't born. I was… manifested."

Just as the sound of her voice drifted away, the ball exploded into a dozen shards. Entrancing the others with her magic, she formed a vague mirror with the broken pieces, which hesitantly rippled into a hazy image of outer space.

The picture contained perhaps millions of shining stars that blanketed the black curtain of space. Space dust was present, giving some magnificent images of the galaxies that continually expanded through the unending universe. However, Zelda paid attention to none of these fantastic natural works.

Grinning, she tapped a small, vaguely lit star in the midst of a yellow cloud of dust. Instantly, the picture zoomed in on the star, sweeping past the many, many worlds that could not be focused on.

Ganondorf stared on in amazement. Never before had he seen such anomalous magic. Koume and Kotake also shared their emotion of shock. Neither of them possessed this incredible ability.

Finally, the image reached a solar system with a common, yellow sun and a single planet. Orbiting the planet was an abnormally small moon, bearing the most deviant of characteristics: a face.

"This," Zelda said, "Is the Terminal Solar System. Its sun holds only one planet: Termina."

After allowing the others to take in the exterior of the system, she tapped the moon circling Termina. The image morphed directly onto the face of the moon, which was a lot more tenderizing up close.

The moon's "face" was absolutely hideous. Two, giant red eyes laid dormant in a pair of deep, lunar dents. A nose, covered in craters, stood just below the eyes, extending far out of the moon like a mountain. By far the strangest accessory the moon possessed was the mouth. A large, menacing smile had positioned itself below the nose, stretching halfway along the moon with rotten, cubical teeth.

This was not a moon of natural creation.

"Termina is a strange place." Zelda told them, "Its moon is just one of its many peculiar attributes."

Pulling her gaze away from the moon, she put two hands down on the stone table and attracted the attention of the others.

"This monster is the key to my goal."

The Twinrova looked at her suspiciously.

"You believe this moon carries the secret of divine destruction?" Koume asked.

"I don't believe it." Zelda said, "I know it. From experience, that is."

"And what experience would that be?" Ganondorf cut in, silencing both sides.

Zelda looked at him proudly.

"I know of one who almost crashed this moon into the heartland of Termina." She said staidly. "I remember watching the fear of the Giants take place."

Approaching him, she put her pretty visage directly in his face, making him step back. But as he watched her, he came to notice an odd scene taking place in her eyes. Behind the pitch black pupils and the icy blue irises, he saw the distinct reflection of a burning, thundering fortress about to collide with a walled city, upheld only by four long-legged beings.

Then he heard a voice, as clear as he heard the wisp of the wind:

_"I… I shall consume. Consume… consume everything."_

The image of a heart-shaped mask flashed in her eyes, along with a shockwave that pushed back Ganondorf.

As strong as he was, the force of the push was far too powerful for him to resist. He was thrown violently to the ground and dragged a few meters to the far wall. When his head hit stone, he looked up to see Zelda standing over him.

"You have to learn that this world isn't yours, Ganondorf." She said, "Not yet, that is."

She offered him one of her demonic hands.

"If we are to cooperate, I propose that we don't viciously question each other. We work as monarchs. Our authority is not challenged. We do as we say and nothing more."

Ganondorf took her hand without hesitation. She let go of him immediately after he was up, grunting in disgust. Wiping her hand on the side of her cloak, she turned back to the Twinrova and began walking.

"With petty pasts and answers cleared," she spoke, "Let us move on to the only important question…"

Zelda snapped her fingers, disintegrating the image of Termina's moon. Koume and Kotake, who had originally been studying the lunar structure, reluctantly returned their eyes to their host, who had now taken her place back at the stone table along with Ganondorf.

"… will you join us?" She asked with impatience.

Kotake looked at Koume. The frozen sister had a look of distrust in her eyes, but she firmly nodded. The Twinrova looked at Zelda and raised their right hands.

"We shall." Koume stated, forging a fire ball in the palm of her hand.

"However," Kotake added, freezing her hand, "If you try anything 'funny', I'll gladly freeze your ass to the mystery and darkness you hide in."

Zelda chuckled playfully.

"I can't promise you that, Twinrova," she joked, "But I can promise that you two will not regret your decision."

Kotake smiled, seemingly pleasing her sister.

There was silence for a while among them, then Ganondorf spoke.

"So how do we get to this 'moon' of yours?" he asked, pushing out the tone of suspicion.

"Ah, my Gerudo king," Zelda replied, waving her finger, "We will not go to the moon. We'll make sure it comes to us."

Everyone looked confused.

"How will that work?" Ganondorf asked.

"Patience, Ganondorf." She assured him, "We must first incorporate a good friend of mine that needs an awakening."

"What's his name?"

The Twinrova leaned forward on their brooms.

"Malladus."

* * *

><p>This was really just a chapter for the readers to get affiliated with the villains. If you are clueless to who Malladus or the Twinrova are (if you don't know who Ganondorf is, there's no hope), I suggest you read some articles or play the Zelda games!<p>

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, sorry it took so long!

** EDIT:** I rebooted this chapter so I could possibly get some extra views and so I could fix a minor but annoying error. I originally thought Kotake was the fire sister, but in truth she was the ice sister. I just switched their names.

Hopefully chapter five will be up soon. I've been busy with school and haven't taken the time to work on it.


	5. Requiem

**Warning:**

**In this chapter of the Great Destroyer, there is a single swear word. I'm sure you'll all be quite offended.**

_Requiem_

Link awoke to a bright fireplace in his cave, obviously not set there by him the following night. There was also a fur blanket draped over his body, which was also clearly not set there by his own hands. His overwhelming fatigue following the battle with the Wolfos had clouded his judgment. He probably would've frozen to death had it not been for this warmth.

Looking around, he suddenly spotted a pair of red, shining eyes staring out at him from the darkness. He was about to go for his sword when he suddenly noticed it had been moved to a rock nearby, placed in its sheath with delicacy. Remembering the night before, he realized that he hadn't bothered to sheath it. But apparently someone had.

However, the more important matter was that a beast was stalking him right in front of his eyes, and was ready to pounce.

"Don't worry, it's long dead." A familiar voice called, creating a vague echo that careened throughout the cave.

He sat up.

Quickly, he focused in on the eyes and noticed they weren't blinking. They also seemed abnormally glassy.

Just then, Link spotted a humanoid figure silhouetted by the mouth of the cave. The sky and blizzard outside was still incredibly dark, but the sun beyond carried over just enough light to make out this person's distinct shadow.

The shadow shifted movement and trudged towards the crackling fire, where Link knew the light would literally shed light on the mysterious figure. As the man's face was finally revealed from beneath the curtain of darkness, Link could say only one thing:

"You followed me?"

"Of course I did," Raymond said, chuckling, "You don't think I'd just let some young boy descend the highest mountain in Hyrule alone, would you?"

With a smile on his face and sparkles in his eyes, he sat down on a nearby rock nearest to the tender heat of the fire. He put his elbows on his knees and his hands on his cheeks, looking proudly at Link.

"Then why didn't you help me with the Wolfos?" he asked.

With just that question, Raymond's smile turned to a frown.

"Believe me; I would've helped earlier had I known they were on you." He told Link, "At first, they were actually after me. I attempted to lead them away from you, but it wasn't long before I had found myself my own hiding spot and drew their attention to you."

"Thanks." Link sarcastically apologized.

Raymond smirked for a second

"At first, I thought you were doomed," he explained, "But when I followed your tracks and the Wolfos' to this cave, I saw two gruesome corpses lying right outside. I had a few doubts when I saw it, but all was confirmed when I found you sleeping with your blood-stained blade here in this strange cave."

Link looked at him with no expression.

"Where'd you learn to fight like that, boy?" he questioned, "I didn't know youths had that kind of rage in them."

"It's because it's not anger that drives me." He said, "And it's not love either."

Raymond looked perplexed.

"Then what is it?" he inquired, interested.

Link looked down at his right hand. The glowing yellow symbol he expected to see there was only present within his mind. He clutched his fist, feeling an abnormal divine presence snake through his body.

"I don't know," he said, shifting his gaze up, "Sometimes I feel like it's justice. And other times…"

He opened his hand.

Instantly, a dim image of a black castle flashed past his eyes. A deep laughter echoed through the cave like it was a canyon, carrying with it the oddest wave of heat. Link took a quick glance at the entrance of the cave and stared.

A black figure stood in the faintest light of the morning. It held out its hand in an undercut position, as if it was beckoning.

Link stood up, alerting Raymond.

"Ganondorf." He said.

Raymond looked at him with an incomprehensive expression.

"What?"

The soldier stood up and followed Link's line of sight. But by the time his eyes had reached the mouth of the cave, the figure was long gone.

"I thought I saw someone there." Link said with doubt.

He and Raymond continued to stare.

"I guess I was just imagining things." He admitted, dropping the gaze and chuckling to himself pathetically.

Taking a deep breath, he returned to a horizontal phase on his rough bed and laid his head against the strangely smooth wall of the cave. Raymond followed gradually, cautiously drawing himself away from the cave mouth and instead towards the rock in which Link was leaning against.

"See that?" he said, pointing to Link's headrest.

Link cocked his head suspiciously for a second, then followed his finger. On the wall behind him, there seemed to be more than just simple stone. An ancient drawing was painted neatly over the rock, built with multiple colors. In the center of the artwork was an encircled green violin, surrounded by the Royal Family crest above and odd, undecipherable notes below.

"You've found us quite a cave here, boy." Raymond said, "That's the symbol of the Wind God's Aria."

Link turned to him.

"Wind God, sir?" he questioned, intrigued.

Raymond grunted in humor.

"Yes." He acknowledged, "He is one of the two gods that govern the high altitudes of Hyrule. The other is the Earth God, who lies in a mountain far south of here. Not much is known of either of them. Except that their temples lie where their symbols are."

Link's eyes widened and he turned to the stone. A distant, whispering voice seemed to speak to him as he looked at the symbol, carrying with it the incredibly faint screech of an archaic, dying instrument.

"So that's the entrance to the Wind God's temple?" he presumed, shifting back towards Raymond, "Can it be opened?"

The soldier exhaled heavily and leaned forward, putting his gloved hands on his knees.

"According to legend," he replied with a slow tone, "Both the Wind God's and the Earth God's temples can only be opened through certain music, played by their extinct instruments."

"Extinct?" Link asked, profoundly accenting the word.

Raymond looked at him with dark eyes.

"Yes," he replied, solemnly, "Supposedly the instruments have been missing for centuries. When religion was still a big thing in Hyrule, the people had shrines for multiple gods built in the Temple of Time."

Link's eyebrows pointed down, signifying confusion.

"Obviously they don't do that now," Raymond assured him, "But when they did, they evidently had the instruments enshrined and worshiped constantly."

"What happened?" Link asked, not bothering to think over his question.

Raymond was quiet for a moment and thought things over. He scratched his head in anxiety, but Link knew the answer wasn't hidden from his mind. It just seemed to be a greater disturbance than fact, which both intrigued and perplexed the young Hylian boy.

"The only thing that could happen," Raymond finally said, looking at Link, "A recession of religion. The Old Hylians, as devout as they once were to their goddesses and minor gods, lost interest in worshipping the unknown and decided to cut out certain parts."

"Why would they do that?"

"I don't know, boy." He said, "You can't expect me to know everything. The monarchy was corrupt back then, and it's possible they didn't like the idea of having an incredibly pious community. They didn't destroy religion, mind you, they suppressed it."

Link shook his head in understanding and disbelief. Sighing, he rested his head on his hand and studied the crest of the Wind God. The whispers continued to travel through the pores of his skin and seemed to chill his bones. He still didn't understand what they were saying. The language was definitely outdated, but it felt so familiar.

"What instruments were they?" he inquired, fresh out of productive questions to ask.

Raymond looked at him like he was crazy.

"Enough talk," he said, "We both ought to be going to bed. I have to escort you all the way down the mountain before dark tomorrow. And that is no easy task."

Link's expression turned to disappointment.

"But-" he said, beginning to argue, but Raymond cut him off.

"Go to bed." He said with a stern tone, "I'm not carrying your tired body down Snowpeak through this damned blizzard."

With that final comment, the man stood up and trudged to the other side of the cave, where Link saw him lay down in another bed, isolated from his. Link stayed erect for a few moments, watching Raymond tuck himself away. Then he removed his cap and rested his head down on the soft surface of the Yeti Mask.

For what seemed like hours he laid awake beneath the covers, staring blankly at the entrance of the Wind God's temple. The ghostly whispers still lurked in the deepest reaches of his skull, speaking to him in an indefinite language.

The whispers carried him to sleep, and through his dreams.

* * *

><p>Link found himself in a narrow, cave-like room. Darkness and cold surrounded him from all angles. The only object that managed to inch its way into his view was the circular pit positioned directly in the center of the room. Its interior was just as dark as the cave, but it carried a ring of stone brick that encircled the outside, which stood out among the blackness.<p>

Analyzing his surroundings, Link took a step forwards and knelt down next to the hole. As he peered into the seemingly pitch black, he spotted a distinct light shined brightly at the earnest portion. It glowed with an almost unnatural radiance, which posed to haunt Link instead of comfort him.

Along with the light, Link heard ominous, ethereal voices coming from deep within the pit. They spoke to him in the same language as the ones outside the Wind God's temple had. However, this time he understood the language as Ancient Hylian. Although he had never studied or heard a being speak such an old tongue, he could decipher the words the voices were speaking, and possibly reply back.

Brushing his covered arms and head, he stood up and craned his neck so he could look directly down the hole. With his hands still warming himself, he closed his eyes and listened in closely to what the unknown whispers were telling him.

"Take the strings," they said, "Open the door. Cure the plague."

"Take the strings. Open the door. Cure the plague."

A loud rumble suddenly shook the room, causing Link to lose his balance. As he tumbled onto the rough, rocky floor, he heard an uncanny screech come from somewhere below him. The malevolent noise travelled up the hole and out, immediately screwing itself under Link's stocking cap and into his pointy ears.

An evil thing then spoke to him:

"The goddesses shall die!" It boomed in its terrible, witch-like voice, "May the worlds merge!"

Link's eyes were shut tight, almost in a painful way. He held his hands beneath his white hat and fondled viciously with his ears, wanting the demonic thing to stop. It repeated its phrase over and over, continuously getting louder and louder.

Opening his inflamed eyes, he saw the ghostly image of a familiar field with a dark red sky. A Moon hung low over it, with a face whose nose nearly touched the blackened grass of the once beautiful prairie. The eyes burned with a supernatural rage, as if the lunar structure had sinister ambitions of its own.

A hot flare baked the surface of the Moon, showing that gravity had already taken its part in its impact. Nearly crying from the pain his ears were undertaking, he watched as the grass caught aflame and a giant shockwave of fire seared the surface of the field. Everything living was killed instantly.

The town that lied close did nothing as the tsunami of heat overtook its outer walls and burned them to a pathetic charcoal. Houses and markets, which stood as weak and insignificant as ever, exploded into horrible compilations of ash and fire. The wave plowed easily over the other half of the town, then continued off into the far distance.

The Moon seemed to smile as the tip of the nose touched the field, and created a cataclysmic eruption that caused the entire rock to burst into large chunks and shake the image out of Link's focus.

But something was wrong with this picture. There were no Giants to stop this Moon, for no Giants stood to protect this land. There was no optimistic music rising above the horizon, for there was no musician to play it. There was no hope to save this land at all.

But above all, this was not Termina.

This was Hyrule.


	6. Wind God's Aria

For those of you who don't know what a stocking cap is, I'll tell you here. To put it simply, it is a synonym for a toque. I didn't want to use the word "toque" because it's a Canadian term and Hyrule isn't exactly in relation to Canada.

Also, if you're wondering what ego of Link this Link would represent, I can't say. Majora's Mask Link is too young, and Skyward Sword Link is too old. I would tell you to combine them, but they're from two different art styles.

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><p><strong>There are no warnings on explicit content in this chapter.<strong>

_Wind God's Aria_

Link awoke calmly to the sound of screeching wind. The darkness that had blanketed the night was long gone and had made way for the brightness of a new dawn. Light reflected off the slick texture of the rock walls and the Wind God's crest, creating the image that the cave had been soaked during the long night. Patches of snow clung to random spots throughout the lair, including Link's trembling shoulder.

With a body as ice cold as a thief's heart, Link brushed his shoulder off from the powdery ice and sat up in his bed. Taking a direct look out of the mouth of the cave, he saw the deadly white blizzard pounding the clearing. Piles of snow were pouring through the entrance, almost touching the sleeping vessel of Raymond Ashei.

Link sighed, knowing his chances of getting down this mountain were growing incredibly slim. Soon, they wouldn't even be able to get out of the cave. The meager food stock they were losing was also a problem. He'd brought only a light meal to last him a single night, and Raymond had nourishment for only a couple days worth. Water wouldn't be a problem, since it was all around them, but that wouldn't save them from starving to death.

Bored, discouraged, and tired, Link gently returned to a horizontal position and planted his head as deep into the Yeti Mask as he could. However, as he grazed the leather surface of the headdress, he felt a strange solidity.

He didn't remember storing anything in the mask when he had gotten up. Surely it was a rock or misshaped ground. But as he lifted the white headdress off the ground and inspected the stone floor, he saw no natural culprit lurking beneath. It was then that he knew the true problem lied inside.

Confused, Link reached a hand into the mask and felt around. Although he was gloved, he felt a very noticeable and peculiar object that had burrowed itself throughout the entire mask. It was large, measuring out to almost the entire span of the Yeti Mask, but just enough to keep it beneath a curtain of darkness. He also felt a long, linear tool that had squeezed itself between the object and the inside of the mask.

Going for the tool first, he grabbed the skinny structure and swiftly tugged it out from the obscurity that dwelled in the mask. His eyes widened immediately. This was obviously _not_ of his possession.

In his hand, he held a strange makeshift violin bow. In truth, there was no real way to distinguish whether it was a bow or not, as it was make of red, alien wood and carried no hair to play. But Link understood its purpose, and it seemed to him that this purpose was very obvious.

It was then that he knew what the object was inside the mask.

Greedily, he set the bow down on his bed and scavenged viciously into the mask, where he humorously fumbled for the neck of the violin to which he knew lied inside. Upon grasping the strong wood, he yanked the violin out of the darkness and let the Yeti Mask fall to the floor. He then stood dumbfounded, as he stared at the odd instrument spread out on his hands.

The violin, which was smaller than others he'd seen, bore a blue, ornate surface that was probably made of painted wood. Similar to the matching bow, the neck and fingerboard were made of a thick, lightweight stick that gave the violin a cozy forest aura. The peg box and the pegs up top were literally a gnarled root, finally giving to Link the conclusion that the entire violin was made of woodland materials.

Although continuing to be amazed by the features of the improvised string instrument, Link wondered exactly how this _thing _made it into his mask in the first place. Instantly sparking an idea, he glanced over at Raymond. The mature soldier suddenly made a loud snore in his sleep, and Link's suspicions were abruptly cut off.

No. Link was sure that there was no possible way that Raymond could've hid the violin in the mask while he was sleeping. Considering the ordeals he'd been through, it was also not too much of a stretch to believe that whatever had hid that instrument was _inhuman_.

Suddenly, he remembered the chant from the night before:

_Take the strings. Open the door. Cure the plague._

Upon reciting, he turned to the Wind God's crest. Just as he thought, the small green violin on the stone slab was almost identical to the one he held in his hands. The similar ornate designs and woodland look further proved this, but the only thing that daunted him was that the violin on the stone was green, not blue.

He looked down at the violin. Raymond said that this and the Earth God's instrument had disappeared years ago due to blasphemy and the empowerment of the monarchy. But Link knew the true reason was much more complex and had nothing to do with the Old Hylians that had defiled the religion of the golden goddesses.

Perhaps this violin was something much more than a shrine to the Wind God and a key to the Wind Temple. Perhaps it was His own tool and instrument. Perhaps the violin was present only in times of insecurity. His insecurity.

As he stood up, he snatched the red bow from the comfort of the animal hides and let his arm rest at his side. He let the other arm rest as well, keeping the tail end of the violin just above the cave floor. With all limbs calmed, he began to impassively stare at the crest.

He ceased all movement of his body and kept his breathing quiet. All focus was to be centered on the crest. It was only that way that He would listen to him. It was only that way that the Wind God would answer his prayers.

Closing his eyes, he spoke softly to himself:

"What shall I do?"

A loud scream of wind punctured his ears. Although his eyes were shut tight and all of his perception had been pulled from the physical world, he could feel the wave of snow that quickly erupted from the frigid mountain air and splattered across the cave wall, just missing Raymond. More gales followed, scattering white, frozen water all over the cave rocks and the floor.

Link continued to ignore the weather, and had even begun to hum to the familiar tune of the preceding night:

"Take the strings. Open the door. Cure the plague."

He repeated this phrase over and over, while all the while the blizzard blew wave after wave of snow into the cave. Eventually, a mound soared so viciously along the walls that it exploded and careened to random locations all over every dimension of the grotto, finally hitting Raymond and heaved him away from his dreams.

The soldier, cold and frightened, took a quick glance around the messy cavern before focusing in on Link. Confused, he called out to him in a heavy tone, which was coincidentally muffled by the sound of the wind.

As he angrily stormed out of his bed, a gust of violent breeze swept from the blizzard and headed straight for Raymond. The man, completely oblivious of the wind, stomped towards Link and prepared to yell into the side of his cap.

However, just as he approached the boy, the gale threw itself into his side and literally through him against the rigid wall. With nearly no understanding of this morning or any productive strength, Raymond collapsed against the stone and was knocked unconscious immediately after smacking his head against the wall.

"Take the strings." Link repeated, "Open the door. Cure the plague."

The wind suddenly became twice as destructive and began manipulating the rocks and small boulders scattered throughout the cave. Gusts of blustery weather flounced through the cavern, picking up whatever materials they could and throwing them throughout the area. Link's and Raymond's beds were caught in the windstorm and were easily ripped to shreds by the unrelenting force.

Link suddenly stopped speaking and raised the violin up. Flipping it over, he put the lower-most point of the instrument under his chin, to which he unknowingly rested his head on. Upon completing this motion, he raised the bow as well and let it rest on the strings of the violin.

The wind stopped. All sounds went mute. Link's breathing was completely extinguished, along with the whisper of the blizzard. The snow stopped falling and the white fog had parted the entrance of the cave just enough for one to see the clearing. It was as if all of nature was quieting down to wait and listen.

They waited and listened for the sound of the violin.

Nothing came from the strings for a while, but when something did, it was a lively tone that Link was completely unaware of playing. The music quickly began to bounce and echo throughout the small cave, and it continued to sound out into the clearing and onto the mountain, where it danced along the canyons and across evergreen treetops. The wind was quiet throughout all of this.

Link continued to play the tune for an extended time, and had even begun to move to the music. His eyes remained shut to the end, as it was not he who was playing the music, but a fantastic musician that was the sage of the Wind God.

A ghostly figure suddenly appeared next to Link, wearing the homey green clothing of the Kokiri. The figure carried the same violin and played simultaneously with Link, so much that one could not discern who was playing what. If Link had still been wearing his old garments, a stranger would not be able to decide who was who.

The two played through the morning, carrying on with the continuous theme that felt as if it was new with every repetition. They eventually came to an abrupt end, followed by the disappearance of the figure, and something completely unexpected.

With his eyes still closed, Link disarmed his violin and stared with shut eyes at the Wind God's crest. The smooth stone suddenly began to make cracking sounds. Fissures, which bore strange lights from within, began branching out from the green violin. With every crack, the fissures grew, and eventually covered the entire crest.

As the final crack sounded, the crest exploded into a cloud of stone debris and dust. Link was sent flying across the cave and out into the clearing, where multiple pieces of rock fell like rain and created heated holes in Snowpeak's blankets of snow. A few larger pieces of the crest were catapulted high into the sky and off the mountain, and seemed to sear a trail of light through their aerial path. The wind had begun to whip once again, and had returned alongside the snowstorm as vicious as ever.

Raymond was left completely unharmed, but he was still unconscious from hitting his head on the cave wall.

Link, however, was questionable. The violin of the Wind God lay in pieces , ceasing to preserve the forested beauty it had bore. Multiple blue splinters and rock shards had slashed Link's chest and torn his sweatshirt, and a large bloody bloody chunk had embedded itself into his chest. The bow was snapped in two, and one of the halves had pierced his shoulder and created a noticeable crimson stain in the black wool. His stocking cap stood as the only piece of clothing that had not been damaged at all, as his pants and gloves had also been cut significantly by both stone and splinter.

But Link wasn't contemplating his death in limbo. Only three things mattered to him:

He had taken the strings. He had opened the door.

But he hadn't cured the plague.

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><p>I will currently be taking questions about the elements of the story. The Great Destroyer is meant to take place in the period after Majora's Mask and way before Twilight Princess, so I am trying to make things as fitting as possible. In that case, I will accept and review any inquiries about the plot and its relation to the Zelda universe.<p>

However, I will not answer any questions or build on any predictions having to do with the future of this story.

Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	7. Unholy Ground

**Warning:**

**In this chapter of the Great Destroyer, there is violence, strong language and a gruesome death scene.**

_Unholy Ground_

A man bearing a cowl raced across the desert on horseback. Green, sickly sweat trickled from his forehead, preserving the only source of water for miles around. His hands and torso were bound in cloth, soaked by the continuous perspiration that erupted from his body. Both of his legs were plated with light, black armor that blistered from the sun's terrible heat and burned the flanks of his horse. The mare itself was just as dark as its rider's armor, and had two, complete red spheres for eyeballs. It also wore armor, but the surface was stainless steel instead of the mysterious, black metal.

The rider headed for a strange structure in the way distance, bordered by an indistinct wall and dusty, orange canyons. He gained on the building rapidly, his horse skipping over the sand dunes as if it was flat as a prairie. The smell of death and fire traveled with him over the desert hills, bringing an obscure wind of evil to the bright desert.

As he approached, unexpected clouds began to stretch from the sky above the structure. The rider and his horse paid no attention to these strange anonymities and continued to gallop even as the clouds boomed with thunder. The outer wall soon came into view, and revealed itself to be as broken and scattered as the pieces of a shattered mirror. Figures appeared on the sides and peaks of the broken wall, holding long objects that were incredibly vague in the desert heat. A smirk suddenly broke from the rider's lip.

When his horse reached the edge of the wall, the clouds had stretched out over the entire desert and had prevented the sun from scorching the earth. The rider reared up his horse to screech into a loud echo that sounded over the ruined sandstone and drifted off to the great beyond. The figures noticed him.

"Halt, rider!" a female voice yelled, "What is your business in the land of the Gerudos?"

The man dismounted his horse and removed his cowl, revealing a frightening green face.

"I seek entrance to the Arbiter's Grounds!" he shouted back, his voice as deep as the thunder's booms, "You shall give me it!"

There was a pause in the air, then a bellow of laughter from above. Directly after their endless squawks, the man watched several silhouettes sitting on the wall pull back their arms, longbows in hand.

"And what gives us a reason not to shoot you now, rider?" the same voice spoke.

The man chuckled to himself.

"Because I am your _king_!" He said, "And you would never shoot your _king_!"

Silence passed over the perched people above. The rider breathed heavily over the fading humidity of the desert, keeping a twisted smile that was unseen by the stalking figures roosted atop the wall. A strong wind passed over them then, blowing away the man's tan wraps and revealing leather armor. The cloth drifted off into the current of the gust, travelling far off and eventually blending in with the now dark desert.

The rider stressed his chest, showing to all a single, peculiar symbol embedded onto the center of his armor. Any untrained eye surely would've had no sense of what this icon meant, but the people above understood. He heard much commotion above (the majority of it being doubtful) before he finally decided to speak up and give his grand speech.

As he did so, the archers lowered their bows.

"I am Ganondorf!" he yelled to the heavens and his audience, bringing with his voice a crash of abnormal thunder, "I am the Prince of Darkness and the sovereign King of Thieves!"

He swiftly pointed to the large fissure in the wall.

"As your leader," he said, "I _command_ you to let me through!"

Frustration burned aggressively behind his irritated eyeballs, creating painful bloodshot veins that seemed to bulge out of the watery globes. His hands were closed incredibly tight, but their pressure was easy only to the point of his nails poking his skin.

But he knew they would listen. They just had to. He had led them to promise. He had delivered them from the Hylians! He was their king, their _god_! He was the surrogate son of the Twinrova, the great sorceresses of the Gerudo! How could they ever turn on him, a _man_?

But as a reply came to him, it was with no pleasurable laughter or welcoming chant. Instead, he heard a terrible, womanly war cry sound from the top of the wall and pierce the cumulonimbus clouds as if Din Herself had screamed from the highest mountain of the heavenly realm and shouted the entire land of Hyrule apart.

Ganondorf stared on in disbelief as the archers readied the longbows again, echoing the threatening sound of elastic cord bending back from a wooden frame. A woman stood up from her sitting position on the end of the wall and raised her hand.

"How DARE you mock and falsely mimic our great king." She screamed with the savagery of a diving eagle, "Our great _dead_ king!"

As if she was weeping, her head turned away from Ganondorf and towards the majestic coliseum sitting far back behind the sandstone wall. Her gaze was focused in on the palace for a while before turning back to him with a loud snarl.

She drew two scimitars from her waste and pointed one down towards Ganondorf, who stared back up with angry eyes.

"Kill the bastard!" she told the others, "Mount his head on a pike so he may join the other _men_ who have foolishly mocked our monarch!"

The archers took no hesitation and let go of the bands of their bows. Tens of iron arrows suddenly shot from the silhouetted figures and threw themselves down on Ganondorf, who stood staidly in the sand at the base of the wall, emotionless. He did nothing to flee as the sharp, bladed sticks came flying down with an incomprehensible speed, headed for every part of his Gerudo body.

The wave of arrows reared up high to blot out the already dark sky, as if threatening to head through the clouds and kill the golden goddesses basking in Ganondorf's pathetic misunderstanding in the heavens. The miniature spears quickly deviated and headed towards the surface of the desert, fiercely cutting a path towards Ganondorf.

The Gerudo man tilted his head down in sadness, but ceased to let a tear loose.

Above, he could hear the constant insults and laughs coming from his once beloved feminine allies.

He closed his eyes as the shadow of the arrows overtook him, and opened his arms as if he would willingly allow the steel tips to puncture his skin and send his soul careening back up to the limbo realm for the divines' and the Gerudos' further amusement. His body was ready to die.

But his rotten soul wouldn't allow it.

With an evil grin, he looked up at the wicked betrayers and yelled loudly:

"May your treason be repaid!"

Instantly, the arrows unnaturally reversed direction and began to trace back their original path, right towards the shocked Gerudos. Frantic and yearning for an escape, the brigand women began jumping off the sandstone wall to an unlucky death at the will of the hardened sand. Others who didn't jump off had pushed others aside from their greed and done their share for Death.

Those who stayed alive were violently impaled by fast-traveling arrows that often knocked the archers clear away from the wall and into the softer sand, pitiably bleeding out from the very weapons they had launched themselves.

Yet, there were still some that remained, and many of them had already began to pull back on their bows and ready to fire another barrage of arrows.

Ganondorf smiled at this act.

"Pathetic." He whispered to himself.

Almost pleased at the thought of the situation, the King of Evil closed his steel-clad arms over his chest and pushed his hands cogently into his pectorals. A green glow suddenly appeared around his head and shoulders, alerting the Gerudos.

"Get ready to fire again!" Ganondorf heard one of them yell.

The glow grew wildly, and soon became a great ignition that baked his body in the flames of his very skin color. He continued to smile throughout all of this, knowing all-too-well the great _power _he possessed.

Just then, the Gerudos let go more arrows, which came with a force just as devastating as the last. They soared through the air at blinding speed, giving the smallest fraction of hope for the desperate sand pirates that strived to please their "deceased" king. However, their arrival to Ganondorf's vitality was far too late, for the Great King of Evil had reached his power limit.

With a grand yell, the green man threw his arms outward and let forth an enormous shockwave of dark energy that hurled across the physical world and disintegrated the arrows to petty wooden pieces and iron fragments. The blast carried on through the desert wind and kicked up large clouds of sand, which head straight for the wall.

Without taking any action, the Gerudos watched in horror as the destructive shockwave busted through the wall like a battering ram and sent all the remaining archers hurling high into the sky and into the hellish, damned realm to which their entire civilization had unconditionally settled themselves into.

The giant sandstone bricks fell into the courtyard of the coliseum, where they broke into multiple fragments and buried themselves into the sand. A mild sandstorm swept through the ruined area following the instance, further entombing the ancient pieces and buildings that were scattered all throughout the yellow-orange valley.

All was then quiet. The cumulonimbus above had receded from thundering, and the desert wind had silenced its annoying, whipping behavior. Those who had survived the cataclysmic demonstration of Ganondorf's power took their last breath, disavowing any vague sound of breathing.

The Evil King himself then walked over the extinct border of the wall into the sandy courtyard, striding forward with a repulsive expression and crimson red eyes. There, he was unpredictably greeted by at least a hundred female warriors with readied pikes and scimitars. All of them bore a look of hatred.

But as they gaze upon the culprit, the man who had murdered their kin, they disarmed their weapons and looked upon him with interest. Ganondorf had also lowered his brawny attitude and lowered his shoulders, attempting to relax.

A woman suddenly pushed her way to the front of the crowd. Like the other women, her face and exposed skin was incredibly tan, most likely from the heavy exposure to the sun. Her hair was bright red, almost extraordinarily, and her lips were silver from synthetic lipstick. However, unlike the others, who wore royal purple two-pieces garments, she wore an alternate, differing white outfit, signifying her position as higher (or possibly lower) than the others'. On her belt, she wore two, identical, sheathed scimitars, displaying her mien of peace and negotiation.

Outstretching her hand with affection, she spoke to Ganondorf:

"Our king…" she said softly, "… it is you."

The Gerudo man had no returning pleasantry.

"So it is." He replied with a tone of discontent.

The woman stepped back in astonishment and looked back in forth through the crowd of women. Without a word, she knelt down to the ground and leaned forward towards Ganondorf, bowing with sincerity and fear.

The others, without delay, dropped their weapons and did the same, creating a strange semicircle around their ordained leader.

Ganondorf said nothing to them, but only looked down with that deep, continuing expression of cynicism and doubt.

"Treachery is the only thing I see from you, Nabooru." He said, causing the woman in white to look up, "Your loyalty no longer matters."

With an iron grip, he swiftly reached down and grabbed the frightened female by the throat. She struggled to breathe in his hand, but kept herself from bringing to him any sort of harm, as if she still respected his leadership. Ganondorf, however, showed no mercy and continued to tighten his already pressured grasp over Nabooru's neck.

The others stood still in fear, trying to keep their submissive positions over the dry sand. A few had even begun sulking.

"My king…" she coughed, "… please… understand…"

Ganondorf's brows were angled almost vertically, displaying his volatile rage. Black, evil energy flowed from the inside of his hand, bubbling like beer over the edges of his fingers and dissipating into the desert air before hitting the ground. Nabooru's neck suddenly made a sickening crack, and her dark eyes widened.

The King of Evil clenched his teeth, straining his grip as far as possible. His veins appeared distinctly over his exposed hand, appearing as if they would burst at any second. Despite the pain, he kept holding and holding until he could go no further.

Then, with exposed fingers, he outstretched his hand and sunk his overgrown yellow nails deep into Nabooru's neck, squirting hot, sticky blood over his hand.

The girl croaked for a final time, and let her head droop towards the sand.

Ganondorf, not satisfied, screamed in anger and continued to hold Nabooru's bleeding body in his death grip. The Gerudos tried not to watch, although many had already broken out crying at the sight of their king's fury and the horrible corpse of their murdered comrade continuing to be mushed together by a merciless butcher.

"You fucking traitor!" his voice bellowed, echoing through the courtyard.

Suddenly, out of vehement passion, Ganondorf drew one of the hanging scimitars from Nabooru's belt and began stabbing and hacking at her body with blinding speed. Thousands of heavy, bloody gashes appeared all over her once beautiful skin, scattering spots of gore across the sand and even onto the horrified Gerudos. He continued to yell throughout his bloody rage, and didn't stop until he had cut the body to the point of bisection, at which point he threw the sword deep into the corpse and let it fall apart.

When the two halves of the mutilated Gerudo had dropped to the ground, the King knelt down and buried his head into the desert. Having exhausted his anger and chopped his victim to pieces, he had been gratified. His desires had been fulfilled.

He pounded his hands into the ground, releasing the final remnants of his killing frenzy, then looked up at the cowering pirates around him.

"Do not fear me." he said, speaking as softly as possible.

With exhausted strength, the Gerudo man pushed himself up to a standing position.

"Fear what has made you forget your king!" he told them, pointing to Nabooru's dismembered body, "A king who had delivered you from your oppressors!"

Sweat dripping from his brow, Ganondorf took a single glance around at his people.

"Stand up." he said staidly.

Although hesitantly, the Gerudo women sprung up from the ground, not bothering to dust off the sand that had clung to the side of their pants. They took their weapons, and listened as Ganondorf went on with his wild speech.

"Let us put an end to the threats." he proposed, "Let us put an end to the petty tyrants you have surrendered your honor and your bodies to."

They all looked at him closely, knowing he still had one more thing to say:

"The Hylians will fall."

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><p>I hope that last scene didn't deserve an M rating. It was violent, but I tried to subdue it as much as possible without destroying the deep passion of Ganondorf's wrath.<p> 


End file.
